Chapter 320: Chapter 320

The spacious room echoed intermittently with the clashing of metal, mingled with occasional hurried panting.

Only when the daylight outside the window noticeably dimmed did An Ning reluctantly sheathe her longsword, rise to her feet, and remove the somewhat cumbersome protective gear from her body.

Her overworked right arm throbbed intermittently with soreness.

An Ning couldn't help but exhale a heavy breath, thinking to herself that this body had indeed been idle for too long, making it difficult to adapt to such high-intensity activity so quickly.

Equally somewhat unaccustomed was Mycroft across from her.

What he had expected to be a simple teaching session turned out quite differently, as the young lady opposite proved to be remarkably agile.

Glancing at the still-dissatisfied lady before him, Mycroft's lips twitched almost imperceptibly as he let out a long sigh. He then stepped forward to gently console this slightly disheartened young lady, speaking with genuine sincerity:

"Believe me, dear Miss de Bourgh, if old John were still here, I swear upon a gentleman's honor that you would undoubtedly be his most accomplished student."

"Including Sherlock..."

Yes, a fencing instructor.

According to this Mr. Holmes before her, because someone was rather "inactive" during childhood, and out of concern for his eldest son's health while cultivating a beneficial interest, old Mr. Holmes specifically hired this fencing instructor for the brothers.

After all, in upper-class society at this time, fencing was indeed an extremely popular social activity.

Even An Ning's cousin Darcy, to her knowledge, was quite skilled in swordsmanship.

As for An Ning herself, oh, she'd better not lightly challenge Lady Catherine's sensitive and delicate nerves!

At least not within Rosings Manor. After all, this lady had upper-class social rules engraved in her very bones.

"The facts prove that your father, that Mr. Holmes, was quite foresighted, wasn't he?"

After a brief wash and changing out of the elaborate fencing attire, the two once again strolled side by side along the pristine lakeshore of Holmes Manor.

"Yes, now I sincerely appreciate it..."

His gaze lingering on the young lady beside him for a moment, Mycroft expressed with rare relief:

"After all, I have no doubt that thanks to my previous foundation, I was not so unfortunate as to have my sword knocked from my hand during our very first exchange!"

God as his witness, that would have been utterly humiliating!

"In fact, you're being rather hyperbolic!"

Gently covering her face with her long fan, An Ning laughed delightedly.

Truth be told, her performance earlier wasn't nearly that impressive. Unlike her previous swordsmanship skills, British fencing at this time was an entirely different sport.

Coupled with her new body not being fully accustomed, it was inevitable that her consciousness and physical movements wouldn't synchronize perfectly.

Wasn't the main reason actually that someone had become rather lax in their skills over the years, at least since leaving home for work?

Mike, who cleverly detected the underlying meaning in her words: "..."

"Miss de Bourgh, if you would..."

Straightening his lapels subconsciously, the man before her seemed about to say something when suddenly, a tall figure once again darted over from nearby.

It was unmistakably Sherlock.

As expected, the moment he arrived, his eagle-like gaze swept past Mycroft and fixed intently upon An Ning:

He looked exactly like a thirsty wolf that had caught scent of intriguing prey.

An Ning couldn't help but inwardly jest, though outwardly she appeared startled by his gaze, casting an "uneasy" glance toward Mycroft.

"Sherly, if I'm not mistaken, the assignments Mr. Sendler gave you several days ago remain unfinished!"

But would Sherlock, especially the young, immature Holmes, be defeated by such a minor setback?

In reality, that was impossible.

"You were practicing fencing just now?"

Almost eagerly, the Sherlock before them quickly spoke up, his eyes rapidly scanning both of them as if trying to ascertain the actual teaching situation.

"Y...yes! Mr. Holmes."

"I never imagined Miss de Bourgh would be interested in such sport?"

This didn't seem like typical behavior for a proper lady. Seeming to have caught onto something, Sherlock's gray eyes unconsciously took on a peculiar excitement.

An Ning momentarily froze.

Perhaps comforted by the gentleman beside her, or perhaps because something interesting had been mentioned, after a brief moment of fluster, this innocent young lady quickly "recovered."

Under the sunlight, her pair of bright azure eyes regained their sparkle and vitality:

"Indeed, God as my witness, fencing is truly one of the most fascinating sports, isn't it?"

As if unaware of the implications in his words, An Ning nodded with complete openness and praised sincerely:

"Especially Mike. I sincerely believe that one day, Mr. Holmes' swordsmanship will surpass most people in the world."

"Don't you agree, Mr. Holmes?"

Oh, well, he had to admit, Mycroft thought sincerely, this really wasn't what one would call an amusing game.

"Sherlock went back?"

That evening, in the carriage heading to Rosings Manor, An Ning asked the gentleman opposite her with rare curiosity.

After all, to her knowledge, that future great detective wasn't one to easily admit defeat.

Even when all reasoning and evidence pointed to one conclusion, his intuition remained this detective's most crucial guide.

Earlier, he had even wanted to accompany his brother to see her home.

Of course, seeing her off was merely a pretext; his real intention was to investigate Rosings Manor.

What a persistent practitioner indeed!

Thus An Ning was quite curious about what method the man opposite had used to dissuade him so quickly.

"In fact, Sherly simply wishes to follow the rules of the game."

Mycroft across from her stated with perfect seriousness.

Making no mention whatsoever of his own role in the matter.

Rules of the game, indeed.

She had underestimated his stubbornness.

Thinking of Sherlock's peculiar expression earlier, An Ning finally couldn't help but lean against the carriage and laugh aloud.

Mycroft's gaze flickered slightly, waiting until her laughter subsided before somewhat awkwardly adjusting his cuffs:

"Actually, Holmes Manor offers far more interesting pursuits than just this, ahem... If Miss Anne wishes, you could behave with even greater freedom here."

"More freedom than at Rosings Manor, without being constrained by anyone."

"Whether it's fencing, or some other minor interests..."

As his words faded, the carriage fell into complete silence.

Outside the window, vast expanses of emerald fields swept past, while from the nearby forest came intermittent birdsong. Staring at the person before her for a long moment, An Ning finally chuckled and laughed again.

The pristine white feather fan in her hand traced an elegant arc between her pale fingers, exuding an indescribable air of leisurely grace.

Mycroft's hand at his side subconsciously curled slightly.

Sure enough, the next moment he heard her say leisurely:

"You really are an excessively direct gentleman!"

Gazing directly into the man's luminous blue eyes, after a moment, this gentleman before her slowly smiled:

"Very well, my mistake. I merely assumed that by now, you had grown tired of those gentlemen's sweet talk."

"Such as?" An Ning inquired with interest.

"Shakespeare's sonnets?"

"Of course, if you wish..." the man clearly said with some distress.

Truthfully, she really didn't want that.

Before the situation could spiral completely out of control, An Ning promptly stopped him. However...

Her gaze lingering for a moment on his sharp mouth, leaning against the carriage edge, An Ning asked with rare curiosity:

"I had thought you weren't particularly concerned about those people?"

Those people referred to her suitors.

After all, since appearing in social circles, thanks to her beauty and substantial wealth, An Ning never lacked for admirers, with many boldly presenting themselves before her. To mention just the most recent example, that Colonel Ross from today served as a clear illustration.

But until now, this gentleman hadn't shown much reaction.

She had genuinely thought he didn't mind!

"In fact, those people, including today's gentleman, clearly don't catch your eye, do they?"

Taking a light sip of the black tea on the table, Mycroft appeared quite certain, even confident, about this point.

His certainty resembled his brother Sherlock's famous analogy—how could humans easily fall in love with goldfish? Especially when there was another of their kind nearby.

Love rivals? Oh, no. Mycroft knew perfectly well that those people didn't even qualify.

"Of course, as one of your humble admirers, you must allow me to possess the emotions appropriate to a gentleman."

After all, too many bees inevitably become rather annoying.

As if recalling something, the man frowned, then surprisingly admitted with complete candor.

God damn humble admirer, An Ning's brow twitched, though the corners of her mouth couldn't help but lift:

"Believe me, Mr. Holmes, your inability to speak sweet nothings is truly my most profound misunderstanding of you!"